


Code Red

by Graymalkyn



Series: Triad [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Anger, Asexual Relationship, Character Death, Comrades, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Loyalty, Memories, Mild Language, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkyn/pseuds/Graymalkyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Sunday Shepard, second chances always came at a very high cost. Indentured to Cerberus, she finds herself forced to pay for a life that she didn’t ask for. With the ghost of the Alliance on her back and a gang of renegades to work with, Sunday will go on a mission that could make her day... or undo everything she has achieved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lies They Always Told You

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the 2015 Mass Effect Big Bang. It is my first multi-chapter story, and my second in the ME universe. It is part of a series called Triad. The title comes from a song by Tori Amos.
> 
> The wonderful garruskrazykanuck made the art for it, and you can find it here: http://jarensbud.deviantart.com/art/Code-Red-Final-539759940
> 
> All characters belong to BioWare.

“We’re not asking you to trust us right away, Commander. Given your history with our organization, it would be impossible to request your cooperation without offering an explanation.” The woman’s sharp blue eyes watched her carefully, a shadow of a smile on her lips. She knew what that smile meant: _We’ll fuck you in a hundred different ways, Shepard; always in the name of the greater good._  

She needed something to get rid of that pain; the jaw was killing her. “What I don’t get,” she said slowly, “is why _you_ are calling me Commander. You’re no Alliance.” 

“Neither are you,” the woman stated. “The Alliance pronounced you officially dead. Somewhere, back on Earth, there’s an empty casket with your name---” 

“Miranda.” Jacob’s deceptively soft voice hinted at a poorly-veiled warning. So far he hadn’t been averse to sharing information with her, so Sunday gathered that he was trying to be as diplomatic as possible. It was plain to see that they had little idea who they were dealing with. 

So, they’d finally ditched her. Good riddance. How many times had she told Anderson that she was not supposed to be there, to be _that?_ She was no poster girl. But of course she was for them. No family, no silver spoon, no future; even the nickname “Butcher” shouldn’t have done much to improve her reputation. And yet, having gotten so many killed had opened doors that would normally be locked tight to those like her. After all, the Alliance took pride in their killers, just like any other merc organization. 

Miranda and Jacob were bickering over whether it was necessary for her to do some tests, and all she wanted to do was to shut them up. Now that she was winding down, she was starting to feel every inch of her body; her _new_ body, as she had been told. She just didn’t fully get it, but somehow she believed it. Under that skin, everything felt unfamiliar and _off_ , just like that odd, jolting feeling she’d always had when guys had tried to grope her when she was living in the streets of DC. "Tried" was always the key word. 

“---Torfan.” Jacob’s voice drew her attention. She gave him a tired look. “Do you remember taking on some batarian slavers?” 

__* * *_ _

_It had been days since the last shipment had arrived. Communications had been cut off, and it was not hard to see that it had either been intercepted or shot down. She had to come up with something and fast: she had no intention of dying on that forsaken moon._

_“If we don’t finish these fuckers now we’re gonna leave this place tagged and in bags!” she shouted, rallying her team amidst the incessant drilling and the blasts to draw out the burrowers. “Kyle! You got your men this far – we need those shields! Make sure they’re ready; they screw up, we’re all dead!”_  

 _“With all due respect, ma’am---” the man started to say, but she cut him off._  

 _“Don’t_ ma’am _me, Kyle. You’ve got your orders.” She switched to a private channel with him. “You’re no idiot. You’ve seen our numbers, and theirs. I can’t issue a ‘no man left behind’ now. Whatever happens, it’s on me.”_  

_* * *_

“Those four-eyed moles made us work for it. They got us good. I sent a lot of good soldiers to their deaths, but that’s how it had to be.” She hated every word that came out of her mouth. It felt like being back in front of the Committee, the cameras, the public scrutiny. _Tone it down, Shepard._ Anderson’s voice still rang in her ears. One minute he was helping her wade through the sea of inquiries; the next, he was escorting her to the Villa.

“Shepard,” Miranda called out. She looked as if she wanted to snap her fingers, but Sunday thought she looked too classy to do that. “Are you feeling alright? Is it physical discomfort?”

“Not at all,” Sunday smirked. God, it hurt like hell. “You made me _purrfect_ , Creator.”

“Excuse me?” Miranda muttered, arching an eyebrow.

“The Commander saw one of the logs,” Jacob explained, sounding slightly amused. “She knows that you were the head of the Lazarus Project.” He gave Sunday an appreciative look. “That should tell you that her brain is working just fine. Shepard can put two and two together while dodging mech attacks.”

“Eh. No need to ass-kiss,” Sunday said dismissively, making Jacob clear his throat and Miranda shift on her seat. “What’d you wanna know?”

“Why did you leave Chief-Gunnery Williams behind?”

She glanced at her hands and rubbed them before leaning forward. “Being in command means that you have to make decisions that are sometimes hard. You have to assess the risks and make a call, even if it means losing people.”

__* * *_ _

_Trying to find his pulse… Where do you check that on a krogan? Pressing the wounds, but goddammit, there are so many of them… “Wrex! Come on, buddy, answer me!”_

_“Shepard…” Garrus’s purr, right behind her. His hand on her shoulder. “He’s gone.”_

_The waves rolled in and out gently, as if nothing had changed. She looked up, and there was Ashley, still holding her pistol. Sunday felt her blood boiling, burning her cheeks. One more second and she would shoot her right there. She saw Kaidan standing between them - he knew what was crossing her mind. She clenched her fists and stood up. “What the fuck were you thinking, Williams? I had it under control!”_

_“I’m sorry, Commander, but he didn’t look as if he was going to back down. You could have been injured and that would have jeopardized the mission. I---”_

_Three steps. Three fucking steps and she’d punch her lights out. Ashley had never even bothered talking to Wrex. He would never have fired._ “Not. Your. Call. _You do that again, and I_ swear…”

_Ashley swallowed hard. “Understood, ma’am.” She turned around and Kaidan followed her to the tent. Sunday tried to look away, but Wrex’s body was just as hard to ignore as Wrex himself had been in life._

_“I’m sure that Williams thought it was for the best,” Garrus murmured._

_“His shields were not up, Garrus,” she replied tiredly. “He was not serious about it.” She saw his mandibles tremble slightly, as if he wanted to come up with some excuse. But he knew her better than that. Sunday plodded towards Kirrahe, and on the way she caught a glimpse of Kaidan comforting Ashley. They both knew that they could never have each other’s backs again._

_Which was why Sunday had not hesitated in sending Ashley to plant the bomb._

_“Commander, with all due respect,” Kaidan said, “I have the tech expertise to handle that.”_

With all due respect, _once again. “Did you not hear what I’ve just said, Lieutenant? It seems that today is ‘Fuck what Shepard said’ day! I gave you an order, Alenko.”_

_She saw him clench his jaw and she expected him to protest, but he still looked straight ahead and said, “Aye aye, Commander.”_

_“Williams,” she said as she took her helmet from Garrus’s hands. “The bomb is yours.”_

_* * *_

“Ash gave her life for the rest of the team,” Sunday said in an even voice. “Without her, I couldn’t have stopped Saren. She died a hero.”

“We understand, Commander,” Jacob said respectfully. “Personally, I would like you to know that we are all committed to this cause, and we are fully prepared to take the necessary risks to accomplish it.”

Miranda crossed her legs, her eyes never straying apart from Shepard. It seemed that the files and vids on her had covered very little of the woman that was sitting in front of her eyes. She knew her kind: in spite of her dismissive attitude, she was an Alliance dog. Train them well and groom them, and you’ve got brute grunts turned into motivational life lessons. That was all very good; in fact, if they hadn’t considered Shepard to be that kind of person, she wouldn’t be there. Her only concern, however, was how much the Illusive Man was willing to support her. She had asked for more control over Shepard, and he had refused to do so. _"Bring her back just as she is,"_ he’d said. Part of her felt amused, thinking that he would come to regret that action. Even though she was fully prepared to put out the fires that Shepard would surely cause, she thought that there would be no harm in letting Cerberus take a few blows from their precious Commander Shepard. It would do them good.

 

* * *

 

“Tim… Can I call you Tim?”

“Don’t push it, Shepard,” the Illusive Man warned her sternly, even though he sounded almost amicable.

“Here’s the thing, Tim. I woke up a couple of hours ago and I found myself in this upgraded body. Still having trouble adjusting, mind you, but I won’t be dancing tango any time soon. The new parts are good for what I do.” Sunday’s eyes scanned the image of the Illusive Man. Smooth moves, and a natural, even voice. Unusually bright eyes – undoubtedly he’d received the same treatment they’d given her. Head nods here and there, and a firmness in response that Shepard had only seen in Hackett. Regular eye contact and attentiveness: he was actually listening. “So why am I here? With the money you spent on me, you could have built your own Reaper.”

The Illusive Man left his glass and stood up, arms hanging down. _Still trying to win me over._ “I trust Miranda has already told you why we brought you back. Even if the sudden demise of the previous Councilors left humanity in a better position, our colonies are still overlooked, and now they are under attack. I won’t cry ‘Reapers’ without proof, although I’m sure the evidence will show up sooner rather than later.” Through the smoke of his cigarette, his bright light-blue eyes focused on Shepard. “Then perhaps, the stories the politicians have been spinning since you defeated Sovereign will finally unravel.”

Sunday lowered her arms, reflecting the man’s posture back to him. “It is true that I kicked that monster’s ass and defeated Saren and the geth. But I didn’t do it alone. You want me to do something, you get me the people I used to work with; simple as that.”

“Your old team might be hard to track down,” the Illusive Man replied, going back to his chair. "May I suggest a change of companions? You don’t really want an Alliance-loyal lieutenant second-guessing you, do you? How about this: you do this one job with Jacob and Miranda.” He gave his cigarette a long puff. “You will find them particularly useful when it comes to quietly infiltrating a facility. If they are not to your liking, we can discuss how quickly we can fetch _some_ of your old team members.”

 _Wrex is not around anymore. Kaidan is Alliance through and through. Garrus is my only option._ She smirked, feeling an unnatural stiffness. She wondered how she would look from the outside. “What can I say? The word ‘Reapers’ makes me all a-tingle. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll do it.”

The Illusive Man gave her a lopsided smile. “You have won me a bet, Shepard. Miranda was sure that you would be more resistant, and she’s not usually wrong. But I told her that it is your single-mindedness that helped you move up in the Alliance, and _that_ is what we want from you.”

 

* * *

 

“Shepard, you… You are _alive?”_ The quarian’s voice sounded as if she was on the verge of breaking down.

 _Shit._ She didn’t need Tali there. Knowing that Miranda was a good judge of character had made her feel less confident in general, and she’d had to resort to her old snarky ways to cover up for her reservations. “Tali’Zorah, you know me!” she barked. “You know what happens to the people who threaten me. You and your friends don’t wanna end up like that volus in Noveria…”

_* * *_

_“Put that gun down and stop squirming, you jackass!” Sunday grunted. The volus kept wriggling, trying to get away from Garrus’s grasp._

_“I’m telling you, we’re just trying to help,” the turian droned. “And if I were you, I’d do what she says. You don’t wanna stay here and freeze to death, do you?”_

_“Argh, hurry up! I’m getting the urge to kick him about,” Wrex grumbled. “I used to have a ball made of a klixen’s fire gland. This guy reminds me of that.”_

_Even though they could not see the fear in the face of the volus, they could still hear the heavy breathing. The words of the krogan had surely made an impression on him, because he stopped moving. “I… will calm down now, Earth-clan.”_

_“Tali, give him the medi-gel and check for punctures--- Ah, I forgot you know the drill.”_

_The quarian nodded. She couldn’t help but feel warm inside when Shepard showed that she knew what it was like to live under a suit. The Commander had become acquainted with her situation –_ “just so that I know that you won’t be a liability,” _she had said–, but Tali thought that there was something else there. Sunday always had her eye on everyone’s needs. She never coddled. She didn’t congratulate them either. You held you end and she would be fine with you._

_“The scrubbers check out just fine, and the suit had a minor tear,” she said to Shepard. “I’m already applying antibiotics to clear the infection.”_

_“Check your own equipment as well,” the Commander replied, restocking the supplies of the Mako. “We can’t afford to take any risks. We don’t know what we’re going to find up there.”_

_Tali nodded. For the first time since she had joined the Normandy and her crew, she felt as if she was a real, meaningful part of the missions. It was comforting to know that everyone had each other’s back._  

 _* * *_  

“Weapons down, Prazza,” Tali commanded, still giving Sunday a hard look. She felt grateful for her mask, because Miranda was scrutinizing her every move. “Fighting Cerberus won’t do us any good, especially if they have Shepard on their side.”

 

* * *

 

“You and I have different methods, but I can’t argue with the results.” He sounded pleased, and that was all that mattered. She felt as if she was back at the N-School, where every accomplishment got immediate feedback from the People That Mattered. Anderson had put her through it, and Hackett had checked in on her frequently. She had joked about it with some of the other officers, insinuating that both men were a couple and had adopted her. She had also been severely reprimanded for that, but at least she’d had a few laughs.

“Look, Tim… I don’t like to be played. You want me to do the job? Do not blindside me. If you knew what I was gonna find in that colony, why’d you send me there without a warning?”

“Come on, Shepard…” he chuckled. “I’ve seen your record. You’re no stranger to fighting in uncharted territory. You have been to places in which no other human has set foot.”

 _“With. My. Crew.”_ She cocked her head and folded her arms. “You do realize that I defused a bomb between your dogs and the quarians today, right? I’m just as good as the people I command; your people---”

“I beg to differ, but I see your point. My thanks for the part you played in getting that olive branch from the quarians.” He stroked the butt of his cigarette. “I will instruct Miranda to transfer the files on Omega, as well as the dossiers of the potential crew members. In the meantime, you might want to have a talk with your new pilot. I trust you will find him suitable enough.”

The lights went out and the doors behind her slid open. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was there – his uneven pacing gave him out.

“Hey Commander,” Joker smiled. “Just like old times, huh?”

 

_* * * _* * *__


	2. I Want You On My Team

Five minutes in the shower turned into ten, and those ten became twenty in turn. Sunday kept staring at her fingers. They wouldn’t get wrinkled. She still remembered dipping her hands into cold water to wash her face during those winter mornings. _Nobody will give you a coin if they see those smudges on your cheeks, you filthy creature!_ Around five years old, just before she was collected by the cars of the new city government and taken to an orphanage. The first of them, at least.

Those fingertips were not hers. The skin was slightly thicker. Her whole body felt firmer. Not a bad thing, actually. She rested her forehead on the metal panel of the wall, letting the water slide down her neck and back.

“Shepard, do you require assistance?” The AI's cool voice, coming from god-knows-where, freaking her out a little.

“No, it’s fine; I’ll be right out!” she shouted. She closed the tap and watched the water go down the drain. She took the towel from a hidden compartment and rubbed her head with it. Her short hair dried fast. She wondered if that was all the hair she'd ever have, or if it would ever grow back. Her mind still couldn't grasp the concept of having been reconstructed, but she was not the kind of person who'd dwell on that.

Her eyes landed to the right of her left shoulder, right above her breast. Her most infamous scar was gone forever; a slash made in desperation, fighting for survival way before she had learned to fight. How she had bled that night… 

“You can select the attire that you wish to wear---” EDI started to say.

“I know, Mom!” Sunday groaned, rolling her eyes and walking into her cabin, stark naked.

 

* * *

 

“On this ship, we follow orders.” Miranda’s blue eyes were simply transactional, but Sunday could feel that if she had been less diplomatic, she would have snarked about the new crew member’s colorful past.

But Jack just looked past Miranda’s shoulder and jadedly said, “Tell Miri the Cheerleader to back off, Shepard. My deal is with you. You have the files here, or should I have them delivered to my room? I bet a French maid outfit would look good on this one…”

“Miranda will give you access right away. The sooner, the better. I do my part, you do yours, right? We’ll be picking up a krogan in a few days and I need strong shields like the ones you can provide.”

“Figures,” Jack shrugged. “Everyone wants something.”

“Yeah, but at least this time you get something in return, don’t you?” Sunday folded her arms and gave her a firm stare. Jack’s red lips curled into what seemed to be the dawn of a smile, but then she looked at Miranda.

“Take me to my hole, precious,” she purred mockingly as she left the debriefing area. Miranda looked back at Shepard – no doubt a thousand questions and comments clambered to get out of her mouth.

But she only said, “If this hadn’t been the Illusive Man’s idea, I would seriously question whether your fabled recruitment skills were impaired in the process of reconstructing you.”

“Eh. Maybe Wilson screwed something up?” Sunday scratched the back of her head. “Anyway, yeah. Next time you talk to Tim, you might wanna ask him why we were supposed to buy Jack.”

“You know he doesn’t like it when you call him like that,” Miranda replied, shaking her head.

"You know how many fucks I give, Miranda," Sunday replied, waving her goodbye.

 

* * *

 

 _Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam!_ The biotic bursts finally reached the mech and blew it up, but it was too late for her to avoid the charging krogan. Jack’s body flew against a tank as if it was weightless, and it crash-landed with such strength that it knocked the biotic out. Sunday grabbed her shotgun and aimed at the tank-bred, but she couldn’t do it. Once again, she just couldn’t kill a krogan. Self-hatred and hesitation bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Two bullets flew past her and impacted on the krogan’s leg, making it lose balance. Sunday looked around and Miranda squatted next to her.

“I shut down Jedore’s shields; you can take a direct hit. I’ll take care of Jack,” she said, readying the medi-gel. 

Sunday got round one of the rusty engines and took point. This was so much easier. Three slow, powerful shots and the bitch was dead. The alarms were triggered and as they blared, the high frequency flooded the channel, forcing them to switch to a different one. “EDI, what’s going on?”

“There is a systems failure in the laboratories. I am currently trying to gain access, but most of the power has been rerouted.”

“What’s Okeer doing up there?” Sunday panted as she sprinted back up the ramps that led to the krogan warlord.

“According to my readings, he must be venting out the toxins that Jedore liberated in the vat area.” There was a slight pause, and then EDI said, “I recommend haste.”

The body of Okeer was slumped against the tank that he had kept apart. Sunday clenched her fists. The idiot. She’d told him that he should wait outside. The path before them had been cleared specifically so that the Kodiak could do a clean pickup. He’d had no reason to stay there.

“Ah, shit,” Jack commented. “Win some, lose some, I guess.”

“I do not understand,” Miranda muttered. “Okeer wasted his life to save a single krogan? Terrible use of resources. But I guess that at least we get to take this one, don’t we? Normandy,” she called, “we’ve got a package for you to retrieve and store in the Port Cargo area.”

“Wait… I get to have the turtle as a roommate?” Jack rolled her eyes. “Nuh-uh. Find him some other place.”

 

* * *

 

“Shepard, do you require---?”

“I’m fine, EDI.” She was sitting right in front of the tank. She’d been watching it for a long time – her legs had gone numb and she stretched them. Instant relief, instant pain, instant pleasure. She was starting to recognize the places where the implants had been inserted, and she wondered if this krogan would feel just as conscious about his body. “Do you know where you are?” she murmured.

“Yes, Shepard. My core intelligence is housed in a quantum---”

“Not you, EDI. _Him._ Can he see anything in there? Does he have any idea how it feels to feel? Does he want for something? Will it hurt him if I get him out of there?”

Silence. “I do not have sufficient data to answer your question, Shepard.”

Sunday grunted as she stood up. “Open the tank, EDI.”

“Regarding alien technology, Cerberus protocols---”

“I’ll wipe my ass with all that bureaucratic TP. I gave you an order, EDI. When the commanding officer of a ship tells you to do something, you do not second-guess them. You’re an AI, aren’t you? Make that a lesson to be learned, so that you know better in the future.”

Silence. “Very well, Shepard.”

One second she saw him gasping for air, fluid trickling down his armored body. The next, he was trying to crush her against the wall. He sniffed her. “Human. Female. Before you die, I need a name.”

She placed a hand over his wrist. It felt warmer and smoother than Wrex. “I’m Commander Sunday Shepard. You’re aboard the Normandy, my ship. I’m recruiting people to fight against an enemy that threatens gal---”

The krogan let out a soft chuckle. “Heh. Heh heh,” he continued, listening to the sound of his own voice. “Not your name. Mine. Okeer didn’t give me one. _Warlord… Legacy… Grunt…_ Grunt was among the last. Meaningless, like yours. It’ll do.”

“Meaningless?”

“Sunday is a human day of the week. What is its relevance?”

Sunday swallowed hard. “It’s the day I was taken into the first orphanage.”

“Orphan-age? Is that a tank too?”

In spite of herself, Shepard cracked a smile. “Something like that, yeah. Now, would you mind…?”

He took a few steps back and saw the weapon in her hand. “Hah! Hah hah… Hah!” He laughed, and she didn’t know if he liked the sound of his laughter or if he had found the proximity to danger exhilarating. “Offer one hand, but arm the other. I like it. _Grunt. Shepard. Hah._ ”

 

* * *

 

“What a headshot!” Grunt laughed. “Did you see that guy’s head blow up? I used the shotgun that Jacob calibrated for me, like Shepard said I should.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled,” Miranda said, glaring at Sunday. She did not approve of the liberties that Grunt had been given, and she’d complained about it to Jacob, who usually agreed with her. But this time, he’d just shrugged and told her to relax. _“If the Commander trusts him, so do we,”_ he’d said. Miranda had rolled her eyes. She knew the quiet admiration that Jacob felt for Shepard, and she hoped that it would remain at that.

“Come on; we need to start planning how to get out of here,” Sunday replied dismissively as they ran across the last section of the bridge. “The gunship guy talked about some tunnels–”

“EDI has already checked them. They’re a no-go. However, we should tell Archangel about them. Perhaps he’s already considered the odds?”

“We’ll see…” Shepard climbed the final steps and a bullet hit her shields. “There’s two more of them here!” she shouted, signaling the others to take cover. She grabbed her Shuriken and glanced at Miranda, who overloaded one of the enemy guns. Sunday ran out of cover and shot them – controlled bursts, no ammo wasted. Miranda nodded approvingly, and they entered Archangel’s bunker.

“Hey there, Archangel,” she greeted him casually. “The name's Shepard – you may have heard of me. I’m hiring people for an important mission. I thought you could join us, if we managed to get you out of here alive.” She reached out to shake his hand, but he just stared at her behind his helmet.

“You’re _recruiting,_ ” he just said. His voice was distorted and it sounded so cold and mechanical that she felt uncomfortable.

“That’s right. I’ve heard good things about you. Well, not from the mercs. But I’m sure you must have noticed how pissed off they are...” She saw him leave his rifle and take off his helmet. She would have recognized those eyes among a million pairs. “Garrus?”

The turian remained in place, tensed up. He held his arms across his chest, and his hands were curled into fists. Sunday noticed that his mandibles seemed to be shut tight.

“Garrus!” She took a step forward and he lowered his arms.

“You… You were _dead,_ ” he snarled. “I thought--- We all thought you were dead. And here you are; walking, breathing... Crap.”

“Is there a problem here?” Grunt asked, standing tall behind Sunday.

Garrus let out his breath and chuckled softly. “And you got yourself a krogan. That’s so you, Shepard.” His eyes landed on Miranda’s uniform – if he’d recognized the Cerberus logo, he didn’t let it show. His eyes hardened once more. “Come on, we cannot waste time. The others will be here soon.”

Wave after wave, the four of them brought the mercs down. Miranda and Garrus worked from a distance, and Sunday and Grunt took down the heavies and the burrowers. Seeing the krogan charge against the vorcha was like watching a midnight bowling tournament. More than one toothy bastard had been tossed up and Sunday had a memory of Wrex charging against a salarian.

As they were climbing up the stairs again, Miranda contacted her. “Commander, the gunship! Garrus is down!”

“Move!” she shouted at Grunt as she sprinted towards the bunker. If something were to happen to him… Her heart seemed to be beating faster than ever before. The hot and cold chills of fear struck her. The rush of adrenaline, her guts churning… Her whole body was reacting to the potential loss of that friend that she’d just found again.

And for that brief moment, she felt truly alive.

 

* * *

 

“We still don’t know how extensive the damage is,” Jacob told her. Resting her back on the leather couch in her cabin, Sunday was reading Miranda’s reports to kill some time, but it was hard to concentrate. “Doctor Chakwas believes that, with the help of some implants like the ones you have, he’ll have full functionality.”

“But…? Because that tone certainly implied a ‘but’.”

Jacob gave her an elusive smile before going back to his down-to-business demeanor. “We cannot say for certain whether he’ll be ready to accompany you to retrieve Doctor Solus.”

“I wouldn’t take him along anyway,” Sunday replied, tossing the datapad aside. “Have you been reading this shit? That plague is killing everyone except for humans. I trust you’ll be ready to suit up?”

“I’m more than ready,” he nodded. “We haven’t been out together since Jack’s---”

“Out together, eh?” Sunday smiled. “That what you do with your dates, Mr. Taylor? Wining, dining, and a few biotic pulls to impress the girls?” She could tell that he was feeling slightly embarrassed and she wondered why. Then again, none of the other people in the ship treated her like he did. He even _saluted_ her, for fuck’s sake. She felt as old as Hackett.

“I didn’t mean to sound cheeky or disrespectful---” he started to apologize, but before she could interrupt him, EDI announced Garrus. The turian stood at the door, looking in on Jacob and Sunday. “Tough son of a bitch,” Jacob muttered, relieved. “I’ll leave you two alone, Commander.”

Once he was out, Garrus walked into the cabin slowly. “Captain’s quarters, eh?”

“That’s right,” Sunday replied, standing up.

“I must confess I never expected the Normandy to fly Cerberus’ colours, but…” He breathed in deeply. “What the hell, Shepard? You were supposed to meet me at the bar that Friday!”

Sunday gaped at him before she felt her blood rushing down her veins. “Well, I’m sorry I died!” she yelled. “It was a bit unexpected, you know? And I’m sorry I couldn’t message you about it; it’s not like being stuck in traffic!”

Garrus’s mandibles flapped. “Is it really you? The Shepard I know wouldn’t work for Cerberus.”  

Sunday sighed and slouched tiredly on the sofa. “The Shepard before you doesn’t have a choice, Garrus. The Illusive Man… The CEO, let’s call him… He told me that I could walk away whenever I wanted. Hell, I certainly could, except for the fact that Cerberus would probably confiscate any salary I got from here to eternity, because there’s no way I could ever return the money they spent on bringing me back.”

“That much?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

“Billions.”

“Damn it. And they couldn’t fix your face in the process?” The shadow of a smirk appeared on his face.

“Oh, hardy fuckin’ har har; as if you looked any better,” she grumbled, touching the open scars on her face.

“They didn’t spend billions on me – they probably used your leftovers,” Garrus replied.

Sunday laughed. “I missed you, turian bastard.” She saw him nod, but he remained silent. “But I really can’t walk away, can I? I’m technically dead. The Alliance got rid of me. I’m no longer a Spectre. I bet the Council was eager to do that, and Udina must have jumped at the chance to cross my name off the records, even if it meant losing a human representative… So I’m kinda stuck here, you know? Joker keeps me grounded but... Boy, am I glad to see you.”

“Well… I’m here for you, I think.” He passed his hand over his crest. “I just need a little time to adjust. Luckily, the forward batteries are alluring enough for me to overlook the fact that we’re in a human-supremacist frigate.”

“Hey, if someone gives you as much as a mean look, we’ll throw them out the airlock.”

“Now _that’s_ the Shepard I know,” Garrus laughed and groaned. “Shit, does your face hurt this badly too?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she smirked.

He stood up. “I’d better get going. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

 

* * *

 

“So… What’s the beef with the toady doctor?” Jack asked her. They were walking back to the Normandy from the Presidium, and after that disastrous meeting with Udina and Anderson, Sunday was in a terrible mood.

“What do you know, I’d never have thought you’d be up for small talk,” she barked.

“I figured that since you’re always pestering me with stupid questions, I could return the favor. Besides, talking distracts me. There’s so much glass here, and it’s starting to feel like there could be _less._ Of course, Cerberus wouldn’t foot the bill for _my_ wreckage. Hey, how much of the budget goes to cheerleading? Does Miri use a tiny mass effect field to keep her perky ass that way?”

Jacob snorted. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey Shep, we could bring along that smartass reporter that tried to set you up today, and lock them both somewhere and lose the key.”

“Say what you will, but Khalisah al-Jilani has always had a reputation for asking the questions nobody wants to answer,” Jacob replied. “I remember her first interview with the Commander, and for a moment I thought she was going to punch her.”

“You’re a total Shepard groupie, Taylor,” Jack sneered.

“I was Alliance back then as well, and she was… inspirational,” Jacob murmured.

“I would have done it,” Sunday commented. “The punching. Every fiber of my being said ‘go for it’ – I didn’t because I thought that Udina had wired my suit and that he’d zap me if I got out of line.”

“What about this time?” In spite of her usual indifference, Jack seemed interested. “There was nothing holding you back. Unless you were scared of the camera?”

“Because she didn’t deserve it,” Jacob replied. “If the Commander had punched her, she would have been seen as a martyr. Besides, Shepard was right: all the people lost in the battle---”

“The genophage,” Sunday interrupted Jacob.

“Pardon, Commander?”

“Jack wanted to know my problem with the Doctor. The genophage is my problem.” As they waited for decontamination, she told them about Mordin’s work for the STG. “I had a friend who died because he thought that there was a cure and that I was going to destroy it. The genophage was wrong, and the only reason why Doctor Solus is still on the Normandy is because we need him.” The doors opened but she didn’t enter right away. She looked over her shoulder; her companions were watching her in silence. “I don’t want to hear anything else about it. Grunt doesn’t need to know either. Is that clear?”

“Understood, Commander,” Jacob said firmly. Jack simply watched her walk away.

 

* * *

 

“But the Alliance’s got nothing to do with the Terminus--- Oh, so _that’s_ why Anderson wouldn’t tell me where Kaidan was,” she grunted. “If I’d known---”

“What matters is that our intel confirmed it,” the Illusive Man told her. “And that’s why I’m giving you a heads up. I am not encouraging you to try to recruit Commander Alenko – as far as we know, he’s Alliance. But this is the most warning we’ve ever had. What we do with this… Horizon is up to you. Good luck, Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

She pointed her gun at the mechanic. “Tell me where you last saw him or else.”

“Calm down, Shepard,” Garrus said. “Look, she’s serious,” he told the man. “Also, she really knows how to use that weapon, which you must have gathered already because otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten this far. So… Where is Commander Alenko?”

 

* * *

 

“That is a _huge_ bug!” Grunt gaped.

“Don’t get distracted, kid!” Garrus shouted as he shot down a few stragglers. Once the overwhelming waves of husks had disappeared, the remaining collectors had been easy to take down.

“Oh fuck, that thing’s got a barrier,” Sunday muttered, wishing that she’d brought Miranda along. “Grunt, I need you to take cover and put my Mattock to good use! I’ll take point and try to bring down the barrier with this gun. Garrus – you’ll be the distraction, okay? Run up and down that area, so that it can see you.”

“Why me?” the turian asked.

“Because you can’t duck. It’s coming!” She took the weapon that she’d found next to a dead collector and aimed it at the giant flying creature. The beam pierced right through the barrier, revealing a second layer of protection. “Overload that shit!” Shepard yelled.

“You got it!” Garrus replied, shutting down the shields of the Praetorian. “Shepard, it didn’t do much---!”

“Grunt, _fire!”_

The bursts went through the armor, making the creature bleed with every shot that landed on it. A deafening screech came out of it, and its barrier was fully restored. The krogan looked back at Sunday.

“Okay, next time I say fire, know that I mean incendiary ammo!” Shepard shouted, hiding behind a pillar to avoid a burst of energy.

“I _was_ using that!” Grunt protested.

“Then switch, because it’s not working!” Sunday came out of hiding and fired the Praetorian once more. The weapon hummed and this time, the beam was stable. They seem to be stuck in a cycle of _burn-burst-shoot_ that gave her no hope. And then…

It wasn’t an explosion – it was pure decay. The disintegration of the creature gave them a glimpse of the other bodies that had made it up. They were grateful that the helmets prevented them from smelling the burnt flesh.

They were suddenly struck by the heat of the take-off. The ship was leaving and the guns had not managed to bring it down.

“Shit,” Shepard hissed. The collectors had taken the colonists. All those people… Had she failed? She was pretty sure she had. If only they’d been there before… “Oh, fffuck...”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Garrus’s soft voice said from behind. “We did all we could with the intel we had, and no assistance from the Alliance. At least we rescued some of the people. Perhaps Doctor Solus can test his solution on those who are still paralyzed?”

“There’s something moving back there,” Grunt said, holding his shotgun.

Sunday switched to her pistol – whatever was waiting for them there would never be as bad as that last thing the collectors had thrown at them. She signaled Garrus and Grunt to ready their weapons before she took point.

“Kaidan…” she whispered, seeing the man slowly coming towards her.

 

* * *

 

“How did it feel to finally face the enemy in battle?” The Illusive Man was slowly stroking the rims of his glass. Sunday was sure that he’d probably read their reports and the transcripts of their conversations – she wasn’t so naïve as to believe that Cerberus wasn’t keeping an eye on her day and night.

“I won’t lie,” she smirked. “The fighting was good. It almost felt like home. Next time they won’t run away.”

“Seems like you got a taste for it,” he smiled, pleased. “Good. Your hunger for battle is what made you such a valuable asset – both to the Alliance and to us; there’s no need to hide it. We’ll just have to find a way to keep you sated.”

“Kaidan being there was no coincidence, was it?” Sunday crossed her arms. “I could tell that he was surprised to see me there, but… It wasn’t really surprise,” she recalled bitterly.

“I may have let it slip that you were alive and working for Cerberus. Whatever the Alliance did with that information is not my doing. In any case… Seeing Commander Alenko must have been hard. He was your second in command, wasn’t he? Am I wrong to assume that you’ve left that part of your life behind?”

She didn’t want to discuss it, and for a brief second she considered telling him to go fuck himself. But she stood straight and said, “You are not. I’m free and ready to proceed with this mission.”

 

* * *

 

The warm water wasn’t enough to wash off the stress of that day. She hadn’t expected it to be the hardest part, but it had been, and now she was mad – at him, for refusing to listen to reason; at her, for being trapped in that situation. She’d never been great with words, but being unable to explain why she found herself in that position was simply frustrating.

She hit the wall with her fist. What was she supposed to do? She hadn’t asked for any of that. _"Thinking you were gone… It was like losing a limb."_ They’d grown more attached after Ashley’s death. He hadn’t blamed her for it. _"Can’t you see you’re working for the enemy? Have you forgotten what they’re capable of?"_ Did he think that she was so stupid? And she hadn’t been able to say anything – she was sure that they were listening in, testing her. She was never alone. Ever since she’d woken up, it was one damn trial after another. Not her choice, but if she wanted to do something about the Reapers, she had to be game. _"You’ve turned your back on everything we stood for."_ The despondency in his voice. The sorrow and anger in his eyes. She remembered the bright-eyed young man that had been so proud of the street rat turned Commander. She’d always admired his straightforwardness, his compassion, his devotion to a system that had taken her in out of pity…

“Fuck this…” she whispered, feeling the warm sting of tears. She hadn’t cried in so long, but she wasn't going to start now… Disappointing Kaidan just made her feel unlike herself again. She rested her forehead on the cool panel in front of her and let the water flow over her sore back for a long, long time.

This time EDI remained silent.

 

* * * * * *

 


	3. Mirror, Mirror

It had started over lunch. They’d never coincided before, but this time they’d both been to the common area later than usual – she’d been seeing Doctor Chakwas over the treatment of her scars and he’d been swamped with the new weapons that she’d acquired. Ever since she’d gotten a good batch of ingredients at the Citadel, Gardner had a different disposition, and he didn’t mind throwing in something quick for them, even if it wasn’t lunch time any longer.

“I’m not working you too hard, am I, Mr. Taylor? You’re always too busy to come out and play…” Sunday’s voice was playful on purpose: she found a certain delight in making him uncomfortable.

This time, Jacob gave her a half smile. “Things are looking up, in spite of the number of issues that appeared when you returned from Horizon.” He rolled the chickpeas aside with his fork and frowned slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. It’s just… This feels strange.”

“What? You and me, having a chat? All alone?”

“No, not that. You’ve come to the armory to talk on occasion, and I know that I’ve been… dismissive, to put it mildly.” He left his fork and looked at her. “It’s hard to see someone like you walking around so casually.” He noticed that she was about to protest, and he rushed to say, “I’m not saying that you’re larger than life or that I worship the ground you walk on. But…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d seen you on the vids for so long… After Torfan, and Eden Prime… And the day they made you a Spectre. The first human Spectre. And then I saw you lying there on that med bay for months, barely alive. I saw Miranda working round the clock, analyzing every possible variable. Even Wilson worked to the best of his capabilities. The Illusive Man dogged us all to make sure that you’d make it. As if there was something that we could do…” He pushed his plate aside gently. “And now you’re here. Not only that: you’re staying.”

“Is that why you’re talking to me now?” she asked. “You thought I’d be going away?”

Jacob gave her a long stare. “I thought you were hardcore Alliance.”

“Oh, I see. Poster girl.” Sunday left her fork and leaned back on her seat. “I could have been Jack, you know? Well, not really. I’m no biotic, and she obviously had it much worse. But I mostly grew up on the streets. I went through different orphanages, never a foster home. When I turned sixteen, they kicked me out – “here’s your bag and some creds; we need the bed.” One day I was in a tight situation and a marine saved me. No need to enter into details. He didn’t say much, but he gave me directions and I found myself applying for the program.” She smiled bitterly. “Ashley once told me that she disliked that kind of people, the ones who saw the military life as a meal ticket. I never told her that I was that kind of person.”

“I’m sorry,” Jacob said quietly.

She gave him a hard look. “Why? My motivations are my own. All the Alliance had to worry about was that I got the job done. Same as the Illusive Man. I did it then, and I’m doing it now. When Anderson told me that Spectre, Nihlus, was there to evaluate me, I went nuts. First I saw it as just another collar, but when I saw the Council so reluctant to take me in, I knew that it had to be for a good reason.”

“Was it?”

“Getting your own ship and being able to act however you want? Hell yeah. Also, I got to work with great people.”

“Like Vakarian?”

The inquisitive tone of the quick question and his evasive look made her think that there had been rumors about them. “Garrus was one of them, yeah. Tali was okay, I guess. Never got her much – she’s the tech type. I’m sure you’d have great talks with her about guns… if she didn’t hate Cerberus. Kaidan… He was my down-to-earth guy from day one. And then you have Ashley.” She frowned. “But Wrex was… I don’t know. He was my brother, I guess. He and Garrus were always around. Team Boom. Oh, and Liara! Liara was sweet. Powerful biotic. Her mother was a bit of a bitch, but in the end…”

She went on about the things they had seen and the mistakes they had made, and Jacob sat there, listening to the story behind the scenes. Seeing her so real, so flawed, made her all the more human. He wondered what would have happened if he’d been recruited during the Eden Prime incident. Would he have been strong enough to fight the thorian? To face Saren? Would he have let the Council die the way she had? " _Being in command means that you have to make decisions that are sometimes hard,_ " she had said only a few weeks before. That was the answer. If he had been with her at the time, she would have been the one calling the shots.

And he would have followed her without question.

 

* * *

 

The wind was powerful up there, forcing them to slow down. She grabbed Garrus by the arm and pulled him towards her. “You alright? Can you take down those drones? Miranda and I will go ahead; there are two commandos near the stairs.”

“Be careful, Shepard,” he warned her, readying his rifle. “If they catch you off guard, they’ll send you flying over the ledge.”

“I warp, you shoot?” Miranda asked for confirmation. Sunday nodded. Miranda waited until her shields were in full power before she raised her hand and sent the field against a fuel container. The explosion jammed the shields of the mercs and Sunday took advantage of the momentary chaos, using her M-4 to finish off the Eclipse dogs as she kept moving from cover to cover. Miranda rushed past her and Garrus, stationed nearby.

“Miranda will draw the last one out. Be ready!”

 

* * *

 

His movements were swift and graceful; part of the dark dance that assassins always performed. Sunday had seen one of them once, and this one was no different: his body was music and his song was death. Not a single shot was heard, except for the finale. He gently laid the body of Nassana Dantius on the desk, as if she had been someone cherished by him. He crossed her arms over her chest and hung his head in silent prayer. Sunday took a step forward, but he seemed to ignore her, and she found herself not wanting to break the image of this drell holding his hands together against the morning sun.

“It appears that someone likes to make dramatic entrances,” Garrus sneered, still pointing his rifle to Thane.

Sunday snapped out of her entrancement. “And keep us waiting. We’ve been up all night trying to find you, Krios.”

“I know,” he finally said. His voice was quiet and it reminded her of the Tantalus core. “You left nothing but chaos and destruction in your wake. And I let you do that.” He walked around the desk and stood in front of her. “Fire and blood were drawn as you passed by. It was… interesting to observe.”

“What was interesting?” she asked, raising his hand to give Garrus a rest.

“You,” Thane replied. “Your style. The way you move. Your determination.” He leaned forward slightly. “How badly you wanted to get to me.”

Sunday stood straight, feeling her cheeks burning. “You didn’t make it easy.”

“I know,” he said once again, and he walked away, giving her a chance to look at him without reservations. His strong torso, his long arms and legs, his slender fingers… The appeal was evident and reserved at the same time.

Sunday cleared her throat. “I’m on a mission against the Collectors. I trust you’ve heard of them?”

“They’ve got a reputation,” he replied coolly. “Is this about the missing colonies?”

“That’s right. We’re gonna take the fight to them.”

Thane cocked his head. “It can’t be done. You are aware that they dwell past the Omega 4 relay, aren’t you? Nobody has ever ventured that far. It would be suicide.”

“Yeah, I keep getting that,” Sunday smirked. “Between you and me, it just makes me want to prove everyone wrong.” She winked at him cheekily.

He shook his head and looked out of the window, into the morning sun. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The warmth was finally getting to him, bringing back memories of a time in which he had been the one standing there but at the same time, someone else. How many lives could you have in one lifetime? He was aware that she was shifting the weight of her body from one leg to the other; he could feel the vital force within that woman, a spark that he’d once had but he’d let go. “A suicide mission will do,” he nodded. “I’m dying.”

 

* * *

 

_Her lips are relaxed but the tension in the jaw is evident. She doesn’t want to care, but deep down, she does. Her eyes look beyond the window but do not see. She listens and asks the right questions at the right time, making sure that she gives me time to breathe. She understands. Caramel skin, illuminated by the cold light of the core of her ship, her home. My home now._

 

* * *

 

“Sounds pretty much like a Spectre,” she commented. They were talking over coffee, like they did every other morning.

“I guess you could say so, except for the fact that A, technically we didn’t exist because of the area where we operated, and so we were never assigned to epic missions, and B, we still had a ton of paperwork to deal with whenever something happened. Besides, if we were caught, the Alliance washed their hands of us.”

“Oh, trust me – you’re preaching to the choir,” she said, biting a piece of toast and jam and licking her fingertips.

He could tell that she was being playful. Part of him wondered if he should let his guard down. After Horizon she had become more approachable, and he had a theory that the change in her attitude had to do with her disastrous encounter with her former lieutenant. Or perhaps he had opened up. He didn’t know what to feel. She was ex-Alliance, just like him. No strings attached there. The legendary Commander Shepard had become flesh and blood, and still there was something about her that set her apart. Jacob shrugged. “I guess it could have been worse.” He saw Sunday looking at her with a gleam in her eye and discreetly rolled his eyes. “Just don’t ask.”

“You’re teasing me, Mr. Taylor,” she gasped. “You can’t just tell a girl not to ask about certain things, especially when they have to do with the dark and scandalous past of such a mysterious character…”

“Now who’s teasing?” he chuckled, standing up to get some more coffee. As he was getting to the station, he saw the assassin walking into the mess hall. The drell nodded politely and helped himself to a small glass of cold tea. Jacob returned to the table and the drell followed him.

“Shepard,” he greeted her with a soft tone.

“Thane, good to see you out of that room. Feeling better?”

 

* * *

 

_He excuses himself, one hand gripping the mug; a datapad in the other. He gives her one last look. There is hesitation in his dark eyes. She doesn’t see him. She’s watching my hands, her pupils slightly dilated. She wants to touch my fingers. But I can’t let her do that. Not now. Not anymore._

 

* * *

 

None of his business. If she was interested in that drell, it was her prerogative. Not that he expected her to get involved with anyone, though. Their mission was just too important to get distracted with that kind of attachment. Or perhaps he’d just never considered the idea of finding someone and settling down. He was no family man, and it was okay.

He left his mug on the workbench and sighed quietly. He hated drama. If she was going to flirt with him and with Thane, he would just stay away. Being in the middle would just make things unnecessarily complicated, and the last thing he needed…

He noticed the blinking light on his terminal, announcing the arrival of a new message.

 

* * *

 

 _He_ would be there, on the other side of the gate. Jacob checked his pistol. Would it come to that? No – the person that once had been his father was no longer there. He couldn’t be. Ronald Taylor had never been a shining example of parenthood, but he would never have condoned such violence against his crew, against those women…

The way they had looked at him had made Jacob feel nothing but contempt. And Shepard… She was there. She’d heard everything. His cheeks burned with shame, and for a while he wished he were alone with the abomination his father had turned into. The blame and the consequences would be his alone. “Let’s go,” he heard her say, and he walked the final stretch with a heavy heart.

He watched Shepard take a stand. The way she let him speak his mind suited him – anger shot in controlled bursts, like her favorite weapon. Her demeanor was deceptively relaxed; by now he knew her enough to be able to tell that she was restraining herself. It occurred to him that if he let her, she’d put a bullet in his father’s brain and be done with that.

And why not? His father kept making excuses for his shameful behavior – always blaming someone else for his degeneracy. He noticed that a few men had started drawing closer to where they were, and Shepard quietly signaled Thane to keep an eye on them. Somehow, that made him lose his temper. That was a waste of time. He pointed his pistol at his father’s face, but when it came to pulling the trigger…

He couldn’t do it. No matter how large a piece of shit that bastard was, he just couldn’t do. He was different. Shepard encouraged him to take the shot, but he shook his head. He was better than that. He deserved better. His father didn’t.

With a firm hand, he left the gun in Ronald Taylor’s hands.

“You okay, Jacob?” Her low voice sounded almost tender, in spite of the roughness that she had shown during those hours in that hellish paradise. His name in her mouth. No more Mr. Taylor. He was his own man.

“I will be,” he replied, walking towards the Kodiak. “Thank you, Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Pom-pom Butt,” Jack said, barging into Miranda’s office. “Where the fuck is Shepard? I need to talk to her.”

Miranda didn’t even bother detaching her eyes from the screen. “The Commander is away on a mission with Doctor Solus and Grunt. She’s expected to return tomorrow.”

“ _Tomorrow?_ And what, we’re supposed to hang in here meanwhile?”

The Cerberus officer let out a controlled sigh. “Landing on Tuchanka is not something we can afford at the moment. We’re doing some maintenance---” She was startled by the impact of Jack’s fist on the wall. Her blue eyes flared. “Just _what_ do you think you’re doing? Return to your hidey-hole immediately. I’ll tell Kelly to let you know when Shepard’s back.”

“Newsflash: you don’t run this ship, precious,” Jack squinted. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Miranda stood up. “I’ve got news for you: when Shepard’s away, I _do_ command this ship. I’d have no problem whatsoever in spacing you and saying that it was an accident.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack stepped forward. “I’d like to see you try---”

“Ladies!” Garrus interrupted them, grabbing Jack by the arm. “You humans say ‘when the cat’s away, the mice will play’, isn’t that right? Not ‘the mice will bite each other’s heads off’ as far as I know.”

“Bite me, turian,” Jack said, wriggling out of his grasp and going back to her place.

“Thank you, Garrus,” Miranda said, sitting down again and resuming her work. “Were you looking for Shepard as well? Or were you just keeping an eye on us? I thought you were busy with your calibrations.”

“That’s something I only say to Shepard. It keeps things… less complicated.” He looked away when Miranda stared at him. “I wish I could have gone with her, but I’m afraid that Tuchanka and its inhabitants would not be so kind to me. Is she coming back soon?”

“You need to talk to her about something? Get in line,” she replied. Before the door closed, however, she raised her voice. “Garrus? Can I ask you a question?” She sat back in her chair and looked at the turian. “Do you really trust her?”

“Sunny?” he asked. She arched an eyebrow, almost amused. “Shit; don’t tell her I called her that. I don’t think she’d appreciate it.” He fidgeted with the braces of his outfit. “She just let me down once, but being dead is a hell of an excuse to stand someone up.”

“I… see. I’ll remember to use it someday,” Miranda smiled.

“Nah. It would be too cruel for the one waiting.” He looked at her. “Listen… I know it wasn’t just you, but… Thank you for bringing her back. She’s worth it.”

 

* * *

 

“You abandoned your family? Man, that’s---”

“Given your personal history, I know how you must feel about that.”

Thane’s words were slow and measured, and they undid her every time. Talking to him was like staring into an incomprehensible truth, simple yet complex, and real – more real, perhaps, than anything else that she’d ever known. He told her of his memories, his son, and the wife that had departed her body. She remembered how she had felt when she’d first tried to make sense of the new world around her. “Disconnected?” she asked, when he talked to her about his son.

“The body is not our true self – the soul is.” He let his eyes wander about her body. “This is why you are still you. The essence of Sunday Shepard was always there, waiting for you to return to your shell.”

“It’s not the best pick-up line I’ve heard, but I’ll take it,” she smirked.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “It is your spirit that makes you the woman that I know now, and the one that others knew before. I see it in battle. It blares in glorious chaos, and in its unique way, it makes the universe a brighter place. That is something I aspire to do before my time is up.”

His words moved her in spite of herself. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “So your son… He has become disconnected?”

“I do not know what has happened to him, but the path he’s walking is not the one he should… More, I cannot say. So I was wondering if you would accompany me to the Citadel. I need to find him."

“Commander,” Joker said on the intercom, “We’re reaching Illium, ETA 5 minutes. Do you want me to tell Miranda to get ready?”

“Knowing her, she’s probably waiting for me all suited up. After this, set course for the Citadel, will you, Joker?”

“Aye aye, Commander,” the pilot said cheerfully.

 

* * *

 

_Her perfume takes me by surprise. It is not a smell I’ve felt on her before. It feels young and warm. I watch her leave the room. The curve of her neck looks inviting – so do her naked shoulders. She’s wearing those clothes because the uniform feels heavy, trapping. A human, just like any other. A human, different from the rest. Different to me._

 

* * *

 

“… and finally, selling illegal VI personalities. He actually sold yours for a while,” Captain Bailey told her, slightly amused.

“Oh, _this_ I have to hear,” Garrus said. “Fully animated?”

“Not really, just phrases. It was pretty buggy, though. My personal favorite was ‘Ever wrestled a varren for money?’” Bailey laughed. “And then you had ‘I delete data like you on the way to real errors’ – we always wondered if that’s how you really sounded.”

“Well, I’d say that’s pretty extreme, but not too far from the real version…” Garrus purred.

“Haw haw,” she rolled her eyes. “Come on; let’s go have a talk with this Mouse.”

“Can we pick up a copy of that VI while we’re there?” Garrus asked as they left Bailey's station.

“Why? Need something to practice your calibration techniques?”

Garrus cocked his head. “Something like that, yeah…”

 

* * *

 

 _She punches him. Tiny drops of blood spray his clothes. He still hides behind the power that he can afford. She strikes him again. This time he reacts. A name escapes his throat._ Joram Talid. _I see her muttering the name to herself, lest she forget. She does this, even though she knows that I will remember it effortlessly. I feel a certain warmth within that I had thought lost forever._

 _I cannot see her, but she’s with me all the way. She keeps me updated. She keeps me alive. She’s my eyes and my ears, and I trust her. I have been in the dark place where she came from, and I understand her better than she will ever know. I hear her soft panting – she’s running to keep up with my target,_ Kolyat’s _target._

 _And there she is – jumping, running, reaching out. She doesn’t look back but she knows that I’m right behind her. I get a glimpse of my son before he enters the apartment._ Kolyat. _He looks different, but he’s not. The boy that I left is not this young creature I’m facing. I explain why I left; I tell him the truth. And I see it in his eyes. He knows. He has always known it. He only needed to hear it from me._

_Bailey talks to her. I see her lips curling into a wicked smile. Had she been someone else, he would have arrested us. But he lets her get away with it. She’s intimidating. She blazes like the sun. She makes the universe a brighter place._

 

* * *

 

One look at one another and they knew which krogan each of them was going to shoot. Garrus had been worried about her not being able to fight them, but since her return from Tuchanka, she had become more confident. Wrex would never come back; the other krogan were completely unlike him. And Grunt… Garrus sometimes wondered if Sunday considered herself Grunt’s mother. He’d spent some time watching them wrestle. She’d even shown him how to headbutt properly, and Grunt had gushed about how she was his krantt, and how she'd impressed the shaman. She was just as krogan as he was.

“Garrus,” she said, taking him out of his reverie. “What d’you wanna do with the volus?”

“If Harkin’s not there, we’ll come back for him.”

“I can’t believe that idiot’s behind all this,” Shepard grunted as they walked to the rapid transit station. “When I see him, I’m gonna kick his nuts so hard that he’s gonna be chewing them for the rest of the week.”

“Nuh-uh. No way. Harkin’s mine. You keep your Collectors. Hell, I’m pretty sure that one of these days you’re gonna punch a Reaper.”

“Only if I get up on the wrong side of the bed,” she replied.

“Well then, remind me to stay on your good side, will you?”

The factory district hadn’t changed a bit. Harkin’s men attacked them on sight, but no matter how well prepared they were, Garrus was honed. He’d been waiting too long for this.

“Vakarian overloaded Mercenary Number 20. It’s super effective!” Sunday cackled as she crouched to the left side of the cargo gate. Somehow, she was more excited than she should have been.

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Garrus muttered to Jack. She shrugged.

“I’m only here to blow up some steam. Been sitting in that dock for a long time and I needed the exercise. It was either this or stealing the Normandy, and I’m not that big of a jerk.”

“Can you two focus?” Sunday urged them. “Jack, raise your shields – you’ll go first. Vakarian, crates at 2 o’clock. EDI’s just suggested that you go out there and shoot some of those to bring down the mechs. On my count… Go!”

Mechs and mercs, crates and cranes, all flying together and apart. Since she’d gotten some of the upgrades she’d brought along, Jack had become much more powerful and surprisingly stable. She’d taken down a heavy mech all by herself when Garrus and Sunday finally caught up with her.

To her amazement, it was Harkin who made her realize how much Garrus had changed since the first time they’d met. It was hard for her to reconcile the image of the idealistic guy who had left C-Sec behind to sail the galaxy in search for Saren. But as Thane would say, his essence was there. He’d always wanted to do what was right. Well, it seemed that sometimes "right" was spelled "rough".

The shot that went through Harkin’s leg rang in her ears. “Leg? Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “I would have chosen another spot, but this is your call.”

“What’d I ever do to you, bitch?” Harkin cried, crawling away.

Sunday got a grip of his head and slammed it against the floor. “Not what you did, but what you tried to do to me.” She gave him a good kick on the ribs. “Washington DC, 2172. Never again to anyone, d’you hear me?”

“One of those?” Jack asked when they were walking back to the transit platform.

“One of those,” Shepard replied.

 

* * *

 

On their way to Sidonis, she felt Garrus’s hesitation. It wasn’t hard to believe that perhaps he was not ready for this. He’d had a good education, a sheltered but strict upbringing; his father had taught him well. Perhaps she should say something, if that saved his soul. Revenge was never the answer, but at least it kept things clear. No loose ends, no strings attached. So when the aircar landed, she was ready to give him "the talk", but he sat back and breathed out slowly.

“What’s eating you, Vakarian?” she asked, leaning back.

He refused to meet her eyes, but his voice was soft when he asked, “What would you do if you returned to the Normandy one day and discovered that someone had betrayed you and killed us all?”

“I’d hunt the motherfucker down and make them pay for it,” she answered quickly.

Garrus nodded. “That’s all I needed to know.” He opened the door and got out of the car. “I need to find a good spot. I’ll talk you through this, okay?”

Before he could close the door, Sunday said, “Hey Garrus… I’ve got your back. Do what you must.”

He took out his rifle and gave her a long stare. “Aye aye, Commander.”

They were more similar than she had thought.

 

* * * * * *

 


	4. Me And Him, Or You And Me

“You are not supposed to listen in, Mr. Moreau,” EDI warned the pilot. “It is a breach on Cerberus protocol.”

“Is it? Well, why aren’t you stopping me?”

“… I am unable to find data to account for the sudden change in parameters during the last mission.”

“Aha! And now you’re looking for that info. See? You’re just curious.” Joker’s face went dead serious. “Now shut up and let me listen.”

Shepard had never been the most tactful person in the universe. Joker had seen elcor displaying more grace in social events. Knowing her, she had only pretended to mind her language when she was Alliance out of deference to Anderson and Hackett. But now that there were no ties, now that Cerberus needed her… Joker cringed at the words that she was spitting. The Illusive Man’s composed reaction could only mean that he knew that she would find out that the abandoned ship was not so, and that it hadn’t been just one more test. They were using her.

He’d suspected it all along, but sometimes it was hard to talk to Shepard about those things. She was fully convinced that Cerberus was watching her day and night, and she hadn’t been wrong. Miranda and Jacob had finally taken a liking to her, and she appeared to have become more relaxed. But now this had happened, and Joker was fully prepared to be picked up roughly and shoved into an escape pod, and off they would go – once again, but this time he hoped that she wouldn’t break his arm or die in the process. But go where? Would the Alliance take them back in?

_“You told me that information was your business! If I cannot trust it, what good are you to me? You do shit like this one more time, and I fucking swear that you won’t see me again!”_ She was yelling again. But the Illusive Man sounded unfazed.

“Mr. Moreau… Joker,” EDI called him.

“Shush! Zip it, EDI!” the pilot hissed.

“I think EDI’s trying to warn you about my presence here.” Jacob’s deep voice startled him. How long had he been there?  _Shit, oh shit._

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have---”

But Jacob raised his finger to his lips and shushed Joker. He was frowning.

So the Illusive Man had always been aware of what they would find. Typical Cerberus. He was beginning to get tired of the game – never having someone to have your back. You always had to look over your shoulder, because anyone could backstab you. Even Miranda had pulled a stunt with that business of his father. Suddenly, being part of an organization that got things done didn’t sound as appealing as it had been before. There was a certain loneliness to it. It was him against the world. And well…  _She_ was part of it as well.

She’d been there for him more than anybody else – always a friendly ear, a shoulder to cry on. Not that he was the crying type. But she’d been patient, and he’d opened up. And now he looked forward to the small chats that they had, and the way she teased him. Jacob had never seen her that way. Commanding officers were invisible to him, except when it came to following orders.

But she’d opened that door. He’d recognized the flirty banter that she always used when talking to him, and he’d tried to flirt back. “So what, I’m just along for the ride?” he’d smiled. She’d laughed and thrown her head back, exposing her long, surprisingly delicate neck. “For the ride indeed, Mr. Taylor,” she’d replied before leaving him with an awkward feeling of inadequacy, of something forbidden.

One that was starting to feel not so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

“Seeing that room again… I--- It’s hard for me to believe that I wasn’t the only victim. All those kids… All this time I thought they were ignoring me, that they hated me. And they may have. With good reason.” The Kodiak lifted off and Jack looked at her. “I’m glad we got that data. I need to see it again.”

“Take all the time you need,” Sunday said, looking out of the window. Jack’s room had reminded her of her own in the last orphanage she’d been. But she hadn’t been tortured. She had never been that special. “You may not have been the only victim there, but they did do things to you. You’ve managed to turn that around by making that power yours. It’s your strength. How you use it… That’s up to you now.”

Jack toyed with the detonator. “I know…” she murmured, before pressing the button.

Before she went back to her room, she said, “Hey, Shepard.”

“Yeah?”

“I know.”

“You know what?”

“That the justicar that went to Omega with you is not the one that’s in the room. But it’s okay. I don’t get anything from saying it, and I owe you anyway.” She saw Sunday let out a sigh of relief and look away. “Feeling better?” she asked.

Sunday nodded in silence.

“Then we’re even,” Jack said, patting her on the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Tali walked to the other side of his work station. “Come  _on._ You must know, Garrus. I’m sure she must have said something to you. You’re her confidant.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, she gets along with everyone else as well,” the turian replied, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “Why don’t you go bother someone else? I’m in the middle of---” 

“Because I don’t think asking them directly is polite!” Her voice has raised an octave and she sounded just like the girl that he’d met over two years before. “You know Shepard and I haven’t talked much since the matter with the Admiralty. I still haven’t forgiven her for handing over my father’s work to Admiral Bitch. Xen.”

“I thought you two were doing better these days. You know, after she allowed her to take that geth.”

“That wasn't what I wanted, but to my people and the Admirals, it was the least she could do,” Tali replied. “The fact that Cerberus didn’t get to have it helped to soothe things a bit. Still, everything’s too fresh between us. In time, maybe… But I want to know now – I need some gossip to keep me distracted, and nobody wants to play cards anymore. And I can’t talk to  _them._ Jacob is Cerberus and I don’t trust him. And I don’t really know Thane.” She leaned forward and looked at him in the eye. “But I know what I saw, and I’m telling you: there’s something fishy there, with the three of them!”

“First of all, the only fishy thing was the skald that died in Shepard’s room. I swear, EDI could take care of that tank… And secondly, whatever she does with those two is her own damned business, and you should stay out of it.”

“When did you become such a grump?” she grumbled. “I see that Shepard’s attitude has rubbed on you.”

Garrus raised his head and looked at the ceiling. “Tali, have you considered the possibility that all these things you’re  _seeing_ are not what you think they are, and that your mask might be foggier than usual?”

“You’re an ass, Garrus,” the quarian grunted, leaving him alone.

Garrus sighed. He’d have to apologize for that later, he just knew it. But he really didn’t feel like talking about whatever was going on between Shepard and… And that was the question. Half of the crew said that Jacob and the Commander had become intimate, and the other half insisted that she spent a considerable amount of time in Thane’s cabin. In any case, the rumors that she was Garrus’s lover had been abandoned in favor of the other two, and in a way, the turian felt relieved. He enjoyed his privacy, and after all, Sunday had always been just a friend.

But then why did he feel so annoyed when it came to talking about that? Jack had made a joke a few days before –something about Sunday licking a psychoactive toad– and he’d snapped at her. He’d tried to stay away from the rest of the crew. Perhaps he was just tired of waiting for the IFF device to be installed, or he needed to have some time for himself; maybe go to a bar at the Citadel and wait for a friend there.

A friend that had stopped coming over to his station to talk to him.

He rubbed his forehead. It was not her fault. He kept pushing her away, using the excuse of the calibrations, because… Well, honestly, he couldn’t deal with her any other way. Telling her that the outing that he’d wanted to have with her two years ago would have meant more to him than something between just friends was no good now. She had moved on from something that had never happened, and so should he.

 

* * *

 

 _She whispers the word to herself._ Siha. _I explain the meaning and she nods, staring at my lips with her rum-colored eyes. I know what she wants. Hot, alive, and impossible. It is too late. I surprise her with a new word._ Jacob. _I expect to hear a lie. But she surprises me. Only truth comes out of her mouth. She likes him. He likes her. I press her hands and she shivers. I ask her – no,_ beg _her. “Take him.” I know what she_ want _s. She hesitates, her eyelashes fluttering in confusion. I can feel the blood rushing through her veins, her pulse speeding up when presented with that idea. “Have me, and have him.” I can only offer her companionship, but she needs something else; she needs what I’ve already had. “When this is over, we will talk,” she promises. I believe her. “When you have been with him, we will talk,” I reply. My prerogative. Her acceptance. Us, together. Not alone._

 

* * *

 

“Shut up everyone! It’s Shepard’s turn to speak!” Grunt’s potent voice made them all go silent. One of the asari dancers surreptitiously moved away to another area.

“Thank you, Grunt,” she said, smiling back at the krogan. “This may not be the classiest place we’ve ever been to, but around this table I’ve got the best that this galaxy can offer.”

“Awww, shut up!” Jack laughed.

“You shut up! I’m serious! I know something about working with good teams,” she said, looking at Garrus. The turian raised his bottle to her. “Look, I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with. What did you call it once, Jacob? Meat and tubes?”

“Legendary meat and tubes,” Jacob said, giving her a half-smile.

“Legends look better from afar. Good thing I’m not one of those, so you get to have a good look at me, up close and personal and free of charge. Thank you, Miranda, for the upgrades.”

“Somebody take that drink away from her, please,” Miranda chuckled.

“Anyway, I just wanna say that you guys are awesome, and when we go through that relay---” Her omni-tool started flashing. “Hang on… Joker?”

“Shepard, we have got a situation---”

“EDI? Why are you calling me? Where’s Joker?” she asked, raising her hand to ask the party for silence.

“Jeff is hurt. He requires medical assistance, but---”

She switched to a private channel. “Why hasn’t Doctor Chakwas seen him?” As EDI explained what had happened to the crew of the Normandy, Sunday felt suddenly light-headed, and Garrus had to grab her by the arm to keep her from collapsing.

“What’s wrong?” Grunt asked, standing up and walking over to them. Shepard’s heavy breathing took him by surprise. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

She clenched her fists. “The Collectors have taken everyone. Everyone aboard the Normandy is gone. Joker needs assistance. He and EDI are the only ones running the ship.”

“We need to go back as soon as possible,” Miranda said, standing up. “Doctor Solus can tend to him, and the rest of us will have to divide the tasks.”

“Just us, in charge of the Normandy?” Tali asked. “If it wasn’t a suicide mission until now, it’s definitely become one.”

 

* * *

 

A long day of preparations. Everyone had worked to the best of their abilities. There was no bickering, no differences between them. But the silence was oppressing. The Normandy felt lonely. She had seen the cargo bay when she had checked on Grunt for the last time before the final jump. So empty and still. She took the elevator to her cabin. It stopped on the second level. Jacob stepped in.

“Going down?” she asked.

“That’s the idea,” he replied, pinning her against the wall and kissing her slowly.

 

* * *

 

She stroked his arm, her leg wrapped around his hips. He was holding her close, kissing that spot between her left shoulder and her left breast, where once there had been a scar. They talked about their fears. She confessed that she wasn’t sure that she was ready to go. He made her promise that they would return.

“So then? What’s next?”

“I don’t know? Just… Taking things in our stride? Are we done with the Alliance?”

“Are we done with Cerberus?”

“We’ll do this last one.”

“And then, back to… Where?”

“Not Eden Prime.”

“Not Earth.”

“Earth is good. We can have a vineyard. Even if the world is ending, people need to drink.”

“What about Thane?”

“What about him?”

“You know…”

“A vineyard would be perfect. Dry climate most of the year. We can grow our own wine.”

“He will like that.” She nibbled his lower lip and he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

 “I still can’t believe that I’ve accepted… That I’ve agreed to that.”

“Afraid of being more open-minded, Mr. Taylor?”

“Perhaps. It will do me no harm, though. As long as it’s just the two of us in here.”

“We’ll see.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“Just kidding…”

“You’d better be…” He slid his hand down her back and pressed his hips against hers. She smiled and kissed him softly.

 

* * *

 

"Shit! We need to close that door!” She grabbed her shotgun and blasted the nearest collector into pieces. “Cover me, Jack! Grunt, I need you!”

“I’m almost done!” Jacob shouted, his fingers moving quickly over the screen. His forehead was pearled with sweat and he let out a sigh of relief when the doors started sliding to shut. “Damn it, too slow!” he grunted. “Garrus, give me a hand!” The turian rushed to the other door and both of them pushed. Less than one meter between them. “Come on!”

“Get away from there!” Sunday yelled.

“Just a little more!” Jacob shouted. His hands slipped and he fell forward.

The bullet went through his head right before the doors were finally shut. Sunday saw his body shake and fall to the floor.

He wasn’t moving.

“No…” Miranda whispered, covering her eyes.

“Why’s he not moving?” Sunday asked, perplexed. “Jacob?” She couldn’t understand why he was not getting up, or why her body was trembling. Perhaps the implants were not working correctly? Interference. There must be some current there, interfering with the signals.

“Siha…” Thane’s voice called her from afar.

 

* * *

 

_She looks at me, rum-colored eyes hidden behind the visor. “Jacob,” she simply says, her voice softer than ever before. I want to hold her, but she quickly writhes away. Her shoulders, tense and foreign. She looks down and after a while she kneels. Her body exudes sorrow and something dark. There’s anger, severing the ties to who she is, what she wants. I fear for her. She’s becoming disconnected. Her mind stays with Jacob, but her body stands up and commands. Her voice is harsh. She does not blame. She carries the guilt, the actions and the consequences. She carries all our lives on her back. We cannot do anything but give it all._

 

* * *

 

“Shepard, I’m  _warning_ you…”

Tim no longer smiles, or smokes, or drinks. What he wants is right there, right before me. It’s my decision, but isn’t it always the case? That’s why he brought me back to life: to command. Unfortunately for him, his wishes and mine do not coincide. Unfortunately for him, Cerberus is no Alliance.

“Warn all you want, but I didn't have people die for this; this conversation is over.”

The image disappears when Tali’s Chatika goes through it.

“I think I’m rather proud of you,” she says softly. I know that in time she will forgive me for what I did to the memory of her father. Parents. They screw up with their kids’ lives even from their graves.

“Get ready to go. We won’t have much time before they find us,” I say, grabbing my rifle and walking to the platform that will take us back to the exit. I still have a body to retrieve. But I won’t think about it, not until this is over. I don’t have that luxury.

I turn around and I see Garrus walking behind me. He gives me a smile right before the platform starts moving.

I think we’ll be okay.

 

* * * * * *

 


	5. Epilogue: Charade

Hackett’s words swirled around her, enveloping her. The Alliance offered protection. A ship like the Normandy, cruising on its own without a flag… There could be serious consequences. They were prepared to offer guarantees, security – anything they wanted. _“One last job,”_ he had said. _“We need someone with your skills.”_

She was not used to working alone, but that didn’t deter her. She needed something other than the occasional drinking game with Jack to numb the empty space in her chest. It hadn’t been about loving Jacob. “Love” was not the right word. But hope had been. She had felt that for once, things could go right without having to sacrifice something.

_Oh, the irony,_ she thought, staring at the image of the bloody Reaper that had appeared in front of her. Talk about sacrifice. A whole star system forever lost in time and space, thanks to another indoctrinated loon. As she ran for the Normandy, she wondered if they would be prepared for the Arrival that Harbinger had talked about. She had the vague suspicion that she wouldn’t be let off the hook so easily.

Seeing Hackett in person only confirmed that.

“I’m sorry those batarians lost their lives, but someone has to make---” 

“---the difficult decisions that get people killed,” she muttered. He wasn’t there just to debrief her in person. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She gripped the edges of the exam table, fighting back the nausea. “They’re outside, aren’t they? Your men.”

“Yes,” Hackett replied gently.

“Let my guys go,” she commanded. No, not before  _him._ Him, she couldn’t command. To him, she had to ask. “Please.”

“The Normandy will be impounded and thoroughly checked. Mr. Moreau will fly her to the port of Omega, and that’s where your squad can stay –  _should_ stay.” Hackett sighed. “What you’ve done… I would have done the same damned thing. But someone has to face the music, otherwise we are looking at the prospect of open war with the batarians.”

“So what about me?” she asked.

“Back to Earth, with your dress blues on.”

“Earth… And still no wine for me." She chucked bitterly and then she raised her eyes. He was staring at her. “Never mind.”

“Here.” He gave her back the datapad. “I don’t need to see this to know you’ve done the right thing. You always do.” He shook her hand and before she could withdraw it, he patted it in a fatherly way.

Parents. Always messing with your life.

She stood there, waiting for them. They would surely come. She hoped that Jack would not attack anyone before talking to her. Shit, she’d probably punch her. She’d told her that she shouldn’t get involved with the Alliance again. And Grunt… He’d go back to his clan, surely. Miranda would be fine. Tali and Mordin would go back to their people. Garrus would say something like “what the hell, Shepard”. She wanted to laugh, but the image of Thane appeared before her eyes. How long would he have before…?

She heard their footsteps rushing towards her. She clenched her jaw and put a smile on her face. “This isn’t over yet…” she muttered to herself.

And for the first time in a long, long time, she believed her own lies.

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *


End file.
